Site Navigation

Site Mobile Navigation

Spanish Disposition

Javier Bardem can't stop sneezing. It's not a particularly cold morning, but the actor was out the previous night. Too much partying? ''I'm allergic to the sun,'' Bardem says. ''Whenever I step out into it, I start to sneeze. It sounds ridiculous, but it's the truth.''

It's hard not to believe the guy. Friendly and unguarded, Bardem -- who is best known for his portrayal of the exiled Cuban poet and novelist Reinaldo Arenas in Julian Schnabel's ''Before Night Falls'' -- is that rare actor who answers questions honestly, without spin. He says that working with his friend the director Pedro Almodóvar was ''a living nightmare -- he's very intelligent, but it's his way or no way.'' He offers no embarrassing confession fabricated for the InStyles of the world, but says that like most teenage boys, he had fleeting doubts about his sexuality. ''I love sex with women,'' he says. ''But if I were gay, I would have no problem saying it.'' His openness extends to the public. Although most passers-by ignore him as he poses on the street for the photo to accompany this article, the odd pedestrian -- curious about who is being photographed -- stops to chat.

Yet none of the onlookers have a clue who he is. If this were Madrid and not downtown Manhattan, it would be a different story. Bardem, 34, has made more than two dozen films in Spain, his native country. He first received recognition in the 1992 film ''Jamón, Jamón,'' in which he played a small-town truck driver who becomes an underwear model. Bardem became known in the United States for his role in Almodóvar's ''Live Flesh'' (1997), playing a paraplegic policeman. He has also appeared as a corpse snatcher and a Santería con man, but it was his role in ''Before Night Falls'' in 2000 that generated international buzz and earned him Academy Award and Golden Globe nominations as best actor. Now, after a three-year absence from American cinemas, Bardem is back with two new movies: the critically acclaimed ''Los Lunes al Sol'' and ''The Dancer Upstairs,'' John Malkovich's debut as a movie director.

A few days after the photo shoot, Bardem is at the SoHo Grand Hotel, nursing a hangover he could sell to science -- ''Way too much tequila,'' he says -- and a thumb he dislocated sparring with a boxing partner. Judging from his appearance, he doesn't rely on the services of a personal stylist: he's wearing a pair of unironic stone-washed jeans and a rumpled rugby top. Although he enjoys the kind of celebrity in Spain normally reserved for soccer players, Bardem grew up playing rugby, making it as far as the national squad. ''It's a bit like being a star bullfighter in Japan,'' he says, ''but I guess you can say that I was pretty good at it.'' His battered beak suggests he was on the receiving end of some on-field blows, but the most famous nose in cinema since Karl Malden's was actually broken in a Spanish discotheque about 10 years ago. ''I was in a soap opera at the time,'' Bardem recalls, ''and I guess this guy didn't like me or my character, because he came out of nowhere and punched me in the face. I owe him one, I guess.''

The boxer's schnoz only adds to his machismo. At 6-foot-3, with legs like horse haunches, the unconventionally handsome Bardem could have been weighed down with the sensitive-meathead roles that Gérard Depardieu has made a career of. But Bardem has managed to transcend his physicality, taking on roles that allow him to display his grace of movement and ability to immerse himself in the characters he plays.

''He's a maniac,'' says Julian Schnabel, who cast Bardem in ''Before Night Falls'' when Benicio Del Toro pulled out of the project. ''But like all great actors, he has this gift of becoming this other character. He dives profoundly into finding out what he needs to learn in order to become that person. People talk about the weight he lost for the role, but forget that to play Reinaldo Arenas, he had to learn English and how to speak Spanish with a Cuban accent. He did a lot of homework before saying yes to the part.''

Malkovich is equally effusive. ''He's the best young actor in Europe, maybe anywhere,'' he says. ''Fortunately, I don't think he knows how good he actually is.'' In ''The Dancer Upstairs,'' which is to be released April 30, Bardem plays a police officer who is on the hunt for a terrorist. Although the film is set in an unspecified Latin American country and was adapted from the Nicholas Shakespeare novel of the same name, it is loosely based on the hunt for Abimael Guzmán, the leader of Peru's guerrilla group the Shining Path. In typical Bardem fashion, he is almost unrecognizable in the part and even manages the occasional dialogue in Quechua, the Indian language his character grew up speaking. Malkovich's decision to have the predominantly Hispanic cast speak mainly in English has rankled some elements of the Spanish-speaking community.

An error has occurred. Please try again later.

You are already subscribed to this email.

''I can totally understand that,'' Bardem says. ''I mean, 'Before Night Falls' worked well here, but in Spain, the critics killed it because it was in English. For the same reason that a lot of people in Mexico were angry that the Frida Kahlo movie was shot in English. They have a point, but at the same time, if you want to work on an international level, you have to work in English. It's like saying we should do 'Gladiator' in Latin, 'Doctor Zhivago' in Russian or do what Mel Gibson is doing, shooting a story about Jesus in the original Aramaic and Latin.''

In April, Bardem also will appear in Fernando León de Aranoa's ''Los Lunes al Sol'' (''Mondays in the Sun''), which tells the story of men coping with chronic unemployment in a shipyard town in northwestern Spain. ''It's probably the movie I am most proud of,'' Bardem says. ''It has had such an impact in Spain, where unemployment is a big concern, especially in rural areas.''

Raised in Madrid by his mother, the actress Pilar Bardem, he knows full well the vicissitudes of the entertainment industry. ''It sounds corny,'' he says, ''but I'm only ever truly free when I'm acting, which is why I am addicted to it. And I've seen what it was like for my mother and my sister, who also used to act, to go through long periods of having no work.''

As the nephew of the director Juan Antonio Bardem, who was jailed during the Franco regime for his incendiary movies, Bardem is also aware of the freedom he enjoys in taking politically charged roles. ''I certainly don't take it for granted,'' he says, ''and it makes you really think about the parts you accept.''

In the unlikely event that the offers run out, Bardem owns two restaurants and has shown that he's not averse to the idea of doing most anything for a buck. ''I've worked as a stripper and a bouncer, so there's always work for me in the clubs,'' he says. He once entertained the idea of being an artist and studied at the School of Arts and Crafts in Madrid, but don't expect a group show with the actor-painters Viggo Mortensen and Sylvester Stallone. ''My brother, who's a famous writer in Spain, and I joke about Stallone's painting,'' he says. ''I read an interview where he says that when he paints a dandelion, he does not paint the flower but what the flower thinks. Maybe one day I can be that good.''

The recent spate of accolades for Bardem suggests he can safely put down his paintbrushes. In February, Bardem won his third Goya -- Spain's equivalent of the Oscar -- for his starring role in ''Los Lunes al Sol.'' At this rate, Bardem would do well to see an allergist about his aversion to sunlight: it looks as though he'll be in the glare of the spotlight for a while.